“Honestly. I dunno, girl,” she laughs. “I haven’t seen you with many guys. I know you like fit guys. You finished college, so I’d imagine you want someone who has some type of smarts. That’s tough around here. These guys have had their heads punched, kicked, and slammed so many times, they’re one concussion away from being permanently stupid.”
I laugh so hard, water drips out of my nose. “What does that say about Travis?”
“You know me. I’m a sucker for a big dummy. He keeps things simple. I’m not looking for anything serious. Plus, the sex. Marg! The sex! That man should change his stage name to The Machine. I swear. He could outlast my vibrator!”
I’m going to run out of water if she keeps talking about Travis the Machine.
“Spill it! Who are you hooking up with?” Fuck, I was hoping she had distracted herself enough to forget what we were talking about.
“Nobody you know.” I feel my cheeks flush and my clit throbs just thinking about my night with Jon. What has this man done to me?
“Ohhh? Did you actually meet some guy in that preppy beach paradise?” She drops her fork, and her eyes widen with realization. “Wait…It’s not that nerdy doctor with a girlfriend, is it?!”
Yes.
“It’s not like that. I’m just having some fun. It’s not serious,” I say, hoping my voice sounds casual and flippant.
“Bullshit! You don’t blush like that overnobody. Come on, Marg. You can trust me. Who is he? What’s his deal?”
I let out a deep breath and stare across the table at my best friend. “His name is Jon.”
“And!?” Jazz exclaims, drawing a bunch of eyes and confused looks from the other athletes.
“Lock it up, Jazz. Or I’m done talking,” I warn her.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Fuck.” She leans in closer. “You bagged a doctor? Like arealdoctor?
“Yea. He’s arealdoctor. What? Am I not good enough to attract a doctor?” I ask, feeling defensive and slightly—okay,very—self-conscious.
“Oh no. You’re a total babe, Marg. You’re like a punk rock super model. I just didn’t think nerdy doctors were your type. Or that, a preppy doctor would go for an aggressive badass such as yourself.
I can’t fault her for her honesty. I thought the same things. Jon and I are complete opposites. In every way possible. Yet, somehow. “We just click,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “And his tongue needs to be studied by science. I almost blacked out from the number of orgasms he gave me with that blessed appendage.”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up!” Jazz starts giggling like a little kid. “When do I get to meet the guy who stole your heart, and your pussy?”
It’s my turn to giggle. “Calm down. He’s already back in Paramount. He works with sick kids. We had our fun, but I don’t think anything serious can really come from this.” I haven’t spoken those words aloud, but now that I’ve said them, I don’t want to believe them. But, seriously, what future could Jon and I really have? We’re just too different. We live completely different lives. And neither of us is willing to give up our careers, or ask the other to do so. So, is this even worth pursuing?
“Don’t go sabotaging something good just because it’s scary.”
“Scary? I’m not scared. I’m just being honest. He’s a fucking doctor. He saves little kids’ lives for a living. I throw around other women while dressed in spandex. Not exactly a perfect match, ya know?”
“Sounds like a great match to me. I mean, yea. It’s cool dating other wrestlers because they understand the sport and the business. But wrestling isn’t forever. Fuck, we may not even get our contracts extended after this season. So, what’s wrong with pursuing a relationship with a person who likes to do more than body slam people? Unless, of course, it’syourbody he’s slamming.” Jazz winks at me.
I laugh even harder. “He wishes. Did I forget to mention he’s only like an inch taller than you?”
Jazz’s jaw drops. Her eyes are so wide, I’m surprised her fake lashes are hanging on.
“I have so many questions,” she begins.
I hold up my hand and bring my index, middle, and ring finger to touch my thumb at the same time. Signaling for her to shut her mouth. “We’re done talking about him. I need to eat.” I grab one of my fries, dip it in ketchup and shove the whole thing into my mouth, moaning around the crunchiness and salty flavor. I look down and notice a glob of ketchup on my sports bra.Everytime!
“You’re no fun!” Jazz pouts but lets it go and starts eating her own food, including her pasta which is still piping hot. “Ah, fuck! Hot!” she garbles around the food in her mouth.
We’re such a goofy mess.
Tonight’s our tag-team match. The arena is sold-out; over three thousand fans are screaming and cheering for the opening matches. Ashleigh confirmed that thousands more will be watching the match on TV, and streaming it.
“This is going to be an epic match,” Eva says. She and Sasha, her partner, are dressed in matching pink two-piece outfits. Their hair is perfectly styled with soft curls, and bright, pastel colors adorn their eyes, and matching pink lipstick completes their looks.
